


The G-Spot

by laschatzi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Quickies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laschatzi/pseuds/laschatzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An evening out with his mates at the Rabbit Hole raises interesting questions in Killian Jones. And he demands answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The G-Spot

 

After having finished his breakfast, Henry grabbed his backpack and hurried to the door, throwing over his shoulder: “I'll be at grandpa's after school. See you there, Killian.”

 

Emma looked up from her morning paper and frowned at her boys. “What are you up to?”

 

Killian scratched behind his ear and replied a little reluctantly: “Driving lessons.”

 

Henry chuckled and opened the door. “Yeah. Gonna be fun.”

 

“Aye, we'll see who laughs the next time I have you and your grandfather under my command on the Jolly Roger, lad!” Killian called after him, not half as severely as he'd intended to. The boy laughed and left the apartment, and when he closed the door behind him he murmured something that sounded suspiciously like _goat's milk_.

 

Emma grinned, happy with herself, her boys and the world. “How was your dart night?” she then asked. “I didn't even notice when you got home.”

 

“My sincere apologies for that, love.” Killian winked as he got up from the breakfast table and carried his plate and teacup to the kitchen sink. “Next time I shall make myself well noticed.”

 

She rolled her eyes and turned to the morning paper again. Not that she'd have minded him making himself _noticed_... which he usually did when he came home late after an evening out with his mates – it wasn't a habit he'd indulge too often, mind you. But he'd definitely formed his own social circle in Storybrooke, and Emma was happy about that. It was important for him to finally be more than just the Savior's pirate boyfriend – and he was so much more than that.

 

Completely out of the blue, his voice woke her from her thoughts. “What is a g-spot, Swan?“

 

She almost dropped her mug she'd just taken to finish her coffee. “What?!” she gasped and fixed her big incredulous eyes on her lover's face. “Where did you even get that?”

 

He tilted his head in a shrug and folded his arms. “Oh, a few of the blokes at the Rabbit Hole were talking about it last night.” He looked at her curiously, and she scrutinized him with suspicious eyes to see if he was just teasing her, but he seemed genuinely clueless.

 

“Oh.” Emma cleared her throat and put down her mug and her paper. “Okay. It is...” – she combed her hair behind her ears with both hands – “well, it's a spot where the body... the _female_ body is very sensitive.” She got up from her chair and busied herself with clearing the breakfast table, a little embarrassed by the topic – which was absolutely ridiculous, because he had explored, caressed, _tasted_ every part of her body.

 

Of course, he caught immediately on her fidgeting. “Sensitive?” he repeated in an amused voice and smirked. “By your blushing I take it, not sensitive as in pain?”

 

She carried her mug and plate over to the sink and grumbled: “No... more as in pleasure.”

 

“Ah... I see.” He got up and sauntered over to Emma, leaned forward and blew softly against the side of her neck. “Like, there?”

 

She put down the mug a bit harshly and shivered a little, much to his amusement. “Not exactly... it's not a general term,” she replied and went on a bit vaguely. “It's a specific spot. It's not _a_ g-spot... it's _the_ g-spot.”

 

“Hmm...” Killian frowned and leaned against the sink, scrutinizing her curiously. “Well, where is it?”

 

Emma squirmed a little. “It's... inside,” she said without looking at him.

 

“Oh...” He pursed his lips and paused for a moment. Then a devilish spark glittered in his eyes, and he smirked. “You mean... _there_?” He casually wiggled his fingers and ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

 

She blushed and bit back a grin. “Yes, that's what I meant.”

 

"Hmmm... weird."

 

She turned to face him with a confused frown. "What's weird?" she asked.

 

"The other guys...” Killian tilted his head. “They didn't seem to really know its location... or be sure that it actually exists."

 

She chuckled. "You had no idea about it yourself."

 

“I didn't know it had a name,” he corrected and booped her nose with his ringed index finger. "And I bloody sure had never any trouble finding it." He popped the 't' in that meaningful way of his that was as good as any tongue-in-cheek, and Emma's blush deepened a little. He cocked his head again and added: "Must be the pirate thing... I've always been good in finding hidden...." – there was the devil tongue again, leisurely moistening his full lips – "...treasures."

 

Emma batted her eyelashes at him playfully. "And completely without charts."

 

“Well, Swan, you see,” he pulled her in his arms with a swift move, "a good captain navigates by the stars."

 

She rested her palms lightly against his chest, as always unconsciously feeling for his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt and waistcoat. "The stars?" she echoed.

 

"Aye.” His ringed fingers played with her hair cascading down her back. “When I found it for the first time, I knew it just by the look in your eyes, twinkling more brightly than any star.” She smiled and averted her eyes for a moment in that playfully coy way she knew was bound to drive him crazy, and he went on with the slightest hint of self-satisfaction in his husky voice: “Your moans, pleasurable as they were, weren't necessary to guide me."

 

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Why do you have to be so goddamn smug sometimes?" Not that she resented it one bit.

 

He tilted his head in a shrug. "That's at least one quality I have."

 

Emma glared at him. "You have a lot of them!” she scolded. “And many of them start with a 'g'." He looked away for a second and swayed his head in embarrassment. She went on: "Except for being a sex god, obviously, you're generous. Genuine. Gentle. Gallant." She paused until he looked at her again, and then bore her intense green eyes into his to make sure she had his full and prompt attention before she finally added: " _Good._ You're a good man."

 

Killian shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably. Even if he had indeed begun to see himself as a good guy now, a part of the hero brigade even, he still didn't handle praise too well. “You might be a little overenthusiastic, Swan,” he replied, “although I do appreciate the sex god part.” He flashed her the smirk again to cover up his embarrassment and the ever-present rest of his insecurity that probably never would fade away completely.

 

She slapped him hard against the chest, really angry now, and he winced in surprise. “Stop that, for fuck's sake!” she snapped. “Don't always sell yourself so short, you have no reason to!”

 

He tilted his head slowly and looked at her in awe and disbelief. “You really think I'm all of those things?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

 

“Of course I do!” she told him hotly. “I can think of at least as many qualities for every letter of the goddamn alphabet!”

 

Killian gave her _that_ slight smile, that genuine raw one, that was completely bare of any mockery, just full of open affection. “Am I that much on your mind, Swan?”

 

She curled her fingers around the lapels of his waistcoat. “You're on my mind,” she told him simply, “you're in my heart...” She paused for a tiny moment and lowered her voice to a solemn confession, “and you own my soul.”

 

Emma could feel the tiny shudder that rolled through him, and she knew she'd hit him right where it hurt. He averted his eyes for a second to regain his composure, and she gave him the time, her heart overflowing with the love she felt for her pirate. When he looked at her again, his heavenly eyes were glittering suspiciously. She saw the tender teasing lurking in the smile in his eyes. “So you're saying that g-spot thing is actually overrated?” he asked in a croaky voice.

 

She returned the smile and leaned a little forward so she could murmur in his ear. “No... I wouldn't say that at all...”

 

His hand that was resting on her waist tightened a little. “Thought so,” he replied and turned his head just enough to the side so he could brush his lips almost casually over her temple. “I shall keep up the navigating then.”

 

Emma sighed and bumped her nose against the scruffy side of his neck, drawing a deep breath. His scent made her dizzy. She smiled when his fingers quietly crawled down from her waist to the hem of her tank top and slipped underneath it. When they started to run over her skin just above the waistband of her jeans, she felt goosebumps blossom underneath them and shifted a little in his arms. “Killian,” she whispered.

 

“Yes, love?” His fingers had reached the middle of her back now and started to wander up her spine painfully slowly, inch by inch, causing her to shiver.

 

“You know I meant every word I said, right?” she breathed and arched her back a little.

 

“Aye,” he murmured into her hair, “that leaves only one question open...” He painted lazy patterns on the bare skin of her back underneath her tank top, and the goosebumps covered all of her upper body now, hardening her nipples.

 

“Hmmm?” she managed instead of forming a coherent question and shuddered involuntarily.

 

Killian leaned a little forward. “You have talked about your heart and your soul,” he purred into her ear and briefly flicked his tongue over the shell, “what about your body, Swan? You haven't mentioned that yet.”

 

She closed her eyes and smiled, tilting her head a little to the side to give him better access. “Isn't that obvious?”

 

“Let me hear it,” he demanded in a voice so low it hummed deep in her belly, and she knew it was one of those moments – those moments when he switched so easily from bashful boyfriend to lascivious lover. Along with his words, he ran his hand down her spine again in a swift move, scraping his fingernails along her vertebrae. She drew in a sharp breath that sounded more like a hiss, and her hips rolled forward automatically, seeking contact with his body, but he pulled back and stopped her with his hand at her hip.

 

“It's yours,” she gasped breathlessly, “it's all yours.”

 

Killian sucked her earlobe between his teeth and bit down lightly, coaxing a little moan from her. “That's more like it,” he chuckled against her throat and brought his hand to her front, possessively cupping her already aching center through her jeans with a firm grip. “Mine,” he growled, and Emma's hips jerked forward again, searching friction with his palm, thighs slightly parting. His hook at her lower back pulled her even closer into his touch.

 

“All of it,” she panted and grabbed his lapels so fiercely that her knuckles went white. “Killian...”

 

“Swan?” His scruff grazed the sensitive skin of her throat as he tilted his head back so he could look in her face. Her eyes were wide open, and his bore the dangerous twinkle of a predator. She was breathing heavily. “You were saying?” His fingers lessened the pressure on her core and glided a little upwards, to the button of her jeans. Her gaze was glued to his lips, hypnotized by the way they were slightly parted and the glistening tip of his tongue that moved restlessly behind them. She swallowed. He smirked. “I can't hear you, Swan.” His voice was a low rumble. It would be her undoing, she knew it.

 

She swayed forward, aiming for his lips, desperate for a kiss, but he pulled back again, a devilish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Impatient much?" he teased, and she felt the buttons of her jeans pop open.

 

"Please," she breathed against his lips, and he yanked her near with a forceful tug at the waistband of her jeans, crashing his lips to hers. He wasn't wasting any time with gentleness, but invaded her mouth with an arrogant act of plundering, worthy of any pirate. Emma surrendered to the fierce assault she'd craved and held on to his lapels like to dear life. When his fingers found their way into her jeans and teased her through the cotton of her panties, she moaned into his mouth.

 

He pulled back an inch, his finger never stopping their wicked dance over her most sensitive spot. “Please what?” he inquired in a devilish purr, “please take me? Please make me forget that spot has even a name?” He paused only to sweep his profligate tongue over her lower lip and raised an sardonic eyebrow. “Please make me forget my own name?”

 

“Yes,” she barely managed and moved rhythmically against his teasing fingers, “all of this, now.”

 

“Very well,” he replied with a self-satisfied smirk, “if the lady insists.” He retrieved his hand from her jeans, leaning forward to breathe into her ear again: “Turn around, Swan.”

 

A red hot bolt of lightning shot through her chest and right into her stomach at his words and set her whole body afire. She tried to scrape together the last remnants of her composure and blinked at him. “What happened to navigating by the stars?” she asked breathlessly in a supposedly teasing way, but failed miserably; she was too far gone.

 

“Trust me,” Killian replied dryly, “I shall found that spot even blindfold.” His hand and hook were firmly at her hips and urged her to follow his demands; not that she had any intentions not to. So, she turned around in his arms and let her head fall back against his shoulder, almost overwhelmed by the sensation of eager anticipation when she felt her jeans and panties being tugged down over her hips. His mouth was against the side of her neck again, and his lips soft and gentle this time, kissing their way up to her ear. “You can trust me,” he whispered again, and she knew he was saying so much more than just smugly reassuring her of his amorous skills.

 

Unconsciously, Emma sighed when she felt the slight pressure of his hand between her shoulder blades as he bent her over the kitchen counter. She steadied herself with her elbows and palms flat on the cool wooden surface when she heard the muffled sound of the buttons of his jeans popping open and the brief rustle of fabric, and a moment later his hand and hook were at her hips again, and he entered her in one fluent move that had her gasp a filthy curse word when he hit the bull's eye right with that first thrust.

 

Indeed, Emma almost forgot her own name because she was too busy panting his while he pillaged and plundered her so thoroughly that the little glass jars on the spice rack above her head were rattling in the rhythm of his hips snapping against hers.

 

It didn't take much time for either of them to fall apart, it took more time instead to calm down again when Killian pulled her into an upright position and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her closely to his heart, his cheek resting against her temple, while they were waiting for their breaths and heartbeats to calm down again.

 

“So much for the g-spot,” he said dryly when he could gather enough air to speak again.

 

Emma chuckled, still a little breathless, and elbowed him gently. “I swear to God, Hook, if you ever mention my g-spot to _anyone_ , in the Rabbit Hole or elsewhere, I'm gonna slit your throat.”

 

She knew, of course, he'd never do such a thing. Because, after all, pillaging and plundering pirate aside, he was _always a gentleman_.

 


End file.
